


Seeking Truth

by orphan_account



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alex/Mulder is a side relationship and mostly comes into play later, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, EVERYONE IS GAY BECAUSE I WROTE THIS, Gen, M/M, Maybe msr if u squint super duper hard, Punk Scully, TLG are AV nerds I love them :'), This has a playlist btw :~), Trans Mulder, Trans Scully
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully are teenage runaways for different reasons - Mulder, to find his sister Samantha and Scully, to escape the anatagonization her family throws her way. They share a Delorean on an endless road to find truth and acceptance.<br/>THE NON CHEESY SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully ride around and fuck shit up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awaiting

In the dimly lit room of Fox Mulder, nearly everything was packed. Three boxes full of the things not being taken or sold to fund his expedition lay on the edge of his bed, the one lamp keeping the room somewhat visible sitting on top. The bed was stripped of bedding, the walls absent of pictures and posters, and only his expansive, worn desk held anything outside of a bag or box. Three accordion folders, labeled ‘AK & TLG’, 'SM FILES’ and 'NAV’ were stacked in a corner of the desk, with other small things spread around on the surface. Mulder walked over to the desk, to get one last real look at his workplace for the past five years. Where he first came to cry after the abduction, to the endless hours of research, to once when Alex was over and-. He stopped himself from going too deep into the wound he already had to open. Sentimentality wasn’t an option for a years-planned runaway. He started his final survey of the items on the desk and putting them in his messenger bag, which he would have to guard as closely as he would his own life. The folders went in first, then phone charger, keys, wallet, pens, lighter, small other things to keep on hand. Now there was the room, almost completly organized and empty. The messenger bag, a duffel bag, backpack, and Mulder’s phone was all that remained unpacked. John was coming by in the morning to take the boxes, to hide the evidence of Mulder ever living in the house. The less traces, the better. He wasn’t even telling his boyfriend about probably never seeing him again. Only his three closest friends outside of Alex would know, the A/V nerds who do a zine called The Lone Gunmen, and adopted the title as their group name. It took them weeks to come up with some new content for their Grand Codex of Excuses, dated, named, and tallied to keep track of every excuse they’ve ever made. It was 10 PM, and Mulder fell back on his bed, sighing. He believed a goodbye text was in order.  
“the lone nerd-men  
Me: im getting ready to sleep. big day tomorrow lmao  
melvin : yea dude!! so we’re never seeing u like ever again????  
Me: if you ever get a letter from Abduction Publishings that’s me. gotta cover up tracks

melvin: !!! i don’t thing csm would even look twice at that, we’re according to his books, 'unremarkable dorky children’

Me: what!!!! we are REMARKABLE dorky children!!!!!

melvin: are u ok?? you never use exclamation points unless you’re super distressed

Me: well im nervous obviously

john: WHY ARE YOU ASSES BLOWING UP MY PHONE!!!! I WAS AT THE MOVIE THEATER!!!!!!!

john: oh you’re leaving tomorrow morning???

Me: yeah :/

Me: wheres ringo

john: skinners’. they got assigned a group project and skinners losing it

Me: F A V E

john: dude if you’re not actually ok just say it

Me: i want 2 die

john: don’t worry you’ll be fine

Me: says the one without anxiety

john: you’ve got me there

melvin: go to bed john you’ve got that calc test tomorrow

john: SHIT!!!! SHIT!!!!!!

Me: im just gonna sleep lmao i need to Rest”

He closed his eyes and let everything melt away. Problems and fate would just have to wait for the morning. 26 miles away, Dana Scully was hiding the attic of her friend Monica’s house, holding her hastily packed backpack and crying into her shirt. Just for the night, she told Monica. “I’ll go home in the morning” But the truth was Scully was never going home. It took her months to figure out how to pick the lock on her window and home was no longer her home. The night’s events left her drained, scared, never wanting to return. Her headphones were locked in her ears in a futile attempt to calm herself. At the moment her plan was, sleep in the attic, leave early in the morning before anyone wakes up, and just go. Anywhere from here. She should have been ready for this as a possibility when she told the truth to her family instead of taking a shot in the dark that it might end up well. The night was going to be long. Time began to slip in her head as songs faded into each other, not being able to distinguish Minor Threat from Blondie in an altered state. A collision-like sound came from below her as the attic door sprang open. “Scully, it’s five in the morning. You’ve been up here all night and it doesn’t look like you slept. Do you want to get in my bed? I have to get ready for school.” Monica was still half asleep, hair naturally parting down the middle and looking like it had been put in a blender. Scully broke from her trance. “I’ll just. Leave. I can’t stay here.” She swung her bag on her back, and got up and left. This was the end of what she thought was her life and she knew it, setting a melancholy deep in her chest.


	2. Ill Met By Shouting "Fuck"

  
Dawn faded into Mulder’s room with a silent dread. Light seeping through the tinted curtains emitting a purple light into the dark room. His alarm beeped and he blinked awake. He had the kind of restless sleep that comes on nights before. Before first days of school, before holidays, before birthdays. Except there was no celebration, only fear and running. Harbored and saved-for anxieties sunk in, causing him to jolt up in bed. His phone read:   
5:13 AM  
Thursday, April 7  
Message - alex   
mulder?? you haven’t talked to me in a week and you weren’t in class yesterday?? are you alright??  
Message - alex  
MULDER  
Message - alex   
MULDER ARE YOU THERE  
Missed call - alex   
Missed call - alex   
In his head he was screaming, wishing he could respond but he couldn’t. He couldn’t be sentimental, he can’t let Alex know what’s going on. Because Alex would want him to stay.   
So he waited for the knock at the window from John, and grabbed the bags he would bring with him. For now, he would just wait.

With her bag slung over her back, Scully had to find her way back home. Get to her car, drive away and never come back. Her phone GPS lead her down the street before she stopped.   
“I shouldn’t do this. I need to go back home and stay.” She tried to convince herself. But she knew she couldn’t. So she went on.   
She made a point to step on every crack hoping it really would break her mother’s back, lines to break her father’s spine. For a minute she really did want them dead. Dead and gone. But now she just didn’t know how to feel. All she needs to escape, feelings would just hold her back. The screams pulsed back through her head. “NICHOLAS, WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? NICHOLAS SCULLY!”   
“I AM NOT NICHOLAS!” she shouted out loud, attracting the attention of a nearby jogger. She picked up her pace to her car. Her stomps on cracks and lines became harder with every step.

John had just left, boxes in hand through the window and now Mulder felt even emptier. Like a void in his soul, he couldn’t run from this like he’s running away from his life. But through his forlorn feelings he picked himself up. He had to leave. Now.   
He set out on his bike, recently purchased with some of the saved money for the trip. Over five years he had accumulated over four thousand dollars, working, doing chores, odd jobs, and selling half of what he owned. All in cash so credit card history would be vacant. Even the Gunmen said he was a bit paranoid. In Mulder’s mind precautions were precautions. Better safe than sorry, no matter how cheesy the statement.   
The first pedal tasted like fear and a bit metallic like blood. GPS rang through his headphones on the turn of the street. His bags were heavy but he was going to get used to it on this now never-ending road.  
Dashboard coated in dust awaited Scully when she climbed into the front seat of the Delorean, she had relied on Monica for rides for the past few months due to her desire to not fill the tank with gas. When it revved up the meter indicated the car was almost empty. “SHIT!”   
She slammed her fist on the dash, pain shooting through her fishnet gloved hand. Never mind that she thought, just put some music on and drive.  
“I don’t give a damn about my bad reputation”   
Pulsing through the the speakers that filled the back of the car, all she could hear was the screaming of Joan Jett. Scully didn’t scream. She just drove.

Mulder knew all trips had ups and downs and that his would be burdened with downs more than most people’s, but luck had it that the bike would collapse and snap a handle ten minutes in. Pent up emotion be damned, he yelled to the sky.  
“FUCK! FUCK IT ALL!”   
For a second he swore an echo swam through the air, also screaming.   
“AH FUCK!”   
Just ten feet away was a Delorean broken down with an agitated redhead dressed for a basement concert, cursing the thing to the “farthest and shittiest corners of whatever afterlife cars have.”  
So he dragged the bike behind him, bags all slumped over his other shoulder, to the car.   
“Veichles fucking you over today too?”  
“You have no idea, trenchcoat! Haven’t driven the thing for months and now it runs out of gas out of nowhere!”  
Mulder laughed a little and made a suggestion.  
“I have an idea, if you can figure out how to fix my handle I’ll ride over and get you some gas. Deal?”  
He stuck out his hand, waiting for her to respond. She looked at him like he was breaking out in a musical number, but put her hand to his.  
“Deal, trenchcoat.”

Scully pulled out a ball of rubber bands that had been sitting in the water bottle pocket of the bag for an indeterminate amount of time. They pulled bands off band by band, created a complex rubber band system to keep the handle in place, and the second Mulder put pressure on it the thing pushed downwards.   
“SHIT!” they sighed, synchronized.   
Scully looked around, taking a deep breath. “I guess I can just walk.”


	3. Bridge To The Road

After walking 4 miles to fill up Scully’s car, they remembered that they forgot something - introducing themselves. They didn’t speak on the way there or back, both too stubborn to begin conversation. Finally, Mulder gave in on curiosity on how this random girl has a Delorean.  
“So, who are you anyway? I live around here and I’ve never seen you. And trust me, I would notice a Delorean.”   
Scully laughed.  
“I’m Dana Scully, and if you notice a Delorean you’re probably Huge Nerd.”  
“I’m not a huge nerd, if you’re looking for those you should meet my friends. I’m Mulder.”  
“Mulder is just a last name, you have a..first name, right?”  
“I do, but it’s stupid as hell.”  
She put her hands under her chin and leaned against the car. “Let me hear it.”  
“Fine, it’s Fox. What am I, a TV channel?”   
“A shitty TV channel at that.”  
“Only I can insult my name!”  
Like their past speech, their laughs were simultaneous.   
“What are you running away from? I know running away because nobody runs into this place on purpose.” Mulder awaited a response but Scully was taken aback by the question. She didn’t know if she should tell the truth.  
“Long story short, my parents. I know, I know, how teenage rebellion.”  
“I wasn’t going to say that, actually. In a way, that’s why I’m running too - family. My sister was taken away a few years ago, but not by the usual suspects. Her captor was extraterrestrial.”  
Scully thought she didn’t know what to say before, but this time she really didn’t. What would one say to something like that?   
“That’s pretty heavy. Are you trying to find her?”  
“Precisely.”  
“Where are you heading?”  
“First stop is about fifty miles from here, a few cities away. It’d be a fast drive, however it is a very slow bike ride.”  
They sat silent for a moment, thinking the same thing. This time, it was Scully that broke the silence.  
“Since I never did finish my side of our deal, and I have no idea where exactly I’m going, this is my idea:  
For getting me gas and helping me find where to go, you can be the passenger to the seat.”  
They shook on this one too. So it was that Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, both runaways of different cause would be companions on a trip with no true destination. The last entry in Mulder’s journal that he would ever write described his thoughts from his desk the night before to in the seat of Scully’s car.  
“The road is infinite and there are many stops, but the truth will be found. I swear it will be. I will maybe one day return to Alex and he may have a new love. The Lone Gunmen may have new friends and a new calling. And if I return to them, I return with the truth or in my coffin.”


	4. An Irrelevant Interlude - The Playlist

IM REDOING THIS PLAYLIST!!


End file.
